


the worst of it

by joshllyman



Series: sportsfest 2020 fills [51]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Depression, Future Fic, M/M, Nonbinary Akaashi Keiji, Nonbinary Character, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:35:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25956835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshllyman/pseuds/joshllyman
Summary: “Kou?” Keiji mumbles, not quite lifting their head from the pillow. “You’re still here?”“Yeah,” Koutarou answers. His voice sounds strange, even to himself.It’s enough to cause Keiji to open their eyes sharply. Their gaze pierces him. “What’s wrong?”Koutarou knows better than to lie. Keiji will see right through him, as they always do. Instead he opts for a swerve. “Nothing I can’t handle. You have a deadline today, right?”“It’s nothing that can’t be handled without me. Koutarou, talk to me.”
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Series: sportsfest 2020 fills [51]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1789072
Comments: 4
Kudos: 107





	the worst of it

_ “You are the first person to accept my weakness.” _ —Summer Troupe, Act! Addict! Actors! (A3!)

\---

Some days it’s hard for Koutarou to get out of bed.

He’s been awake for several hours already, having blinked his eyes open sometime before the sun rose. Next to him, Keiji is only just beginning to stir. Usually by now he’s gone on his morning run and is fixing himself a protein shake in the kitchen. It’s the whir of the blender that usually spurs Keiji out of bed. Today he’s counted the ceiling tiles thrice over and contemplated why he’s even alive.

On a good day, his brain is just slow enough to let him keep up with it. On a bad one, it either moves so quickly that it makes him anxious, the ever evolving thoughts creating a chain of what-ifs that he’s unable to answer, or it fixates on a single thought and refuses to move on. Today is the latter kind.

“Kou?” Keiji mumbles, not quite lifting their head from the pillow. “You’re still here?”

“Yeah,” Koutarou answers. His voice sounds strange, even to himself.

It’s enough to cause Keiji to open their eyes sharply. Their gaze pierces him. “What’s wrong?”

Koutarou knows better than to lie. Keiji will see right through him, as they always do. Instead he opts for a swerve. “Nothing I can’t handle. You have a deadline today, right?”

“It’s nothing that can’t be handled without me. Koutarou, talk to me.”

Koutarou swallows. Keiji is sitting up. Koutarou has always loved their bedhead. Their hair goes extra fluffy in sleep, so that when they wake it makes a large crown around their skull. The first time they’d stayed the night, Koutarou had giggled so much that Keiji hit him with a pillow, which had led to an all-out pillow war.

Even that memory can’t bring a smile to his lips just now.

“I’m just tired, I think,” Koutarou says, which isn’t the whole truth but it’s definitely part of it. He rolls over enough to rest his forehead against Keiji’s thigh. “Guess I didn’t sleep too well.”

Keiji runs their hands through his hair. “How long have you been awake?”

“A few hours.”

“And you didn’t go for your run?”

“Nah.”

Keiji sighs, and Koutarou winces. He’s disappointed them; he’s certain of it. If he’s not in his best shape, he can’t play volleyball anymore, and if he isn’t playing volleyball, who is he, anyway? Certainly not anyone worthy of Keiji. Incredible, talented, intelligent, handsome, hard-working Keiji. Koutarou curls up more tightly into a ball.

“Kou,” Keiji says. Their voice sounds far away, like it’s on the outside of the voice in his head telling him he’s not good enough. Koutarou balls his hands into fists. He’s spent his whole life dedicating himself to his sport, and for what? He’ll have to retire in a few years, when his body starts to break down, or sooner if he happens to get hurt. He’d seen it happen to Ushijima already: someone who was in his prime, cut down too soon. But Ushijima had his farm to fall back on, and he’s doing just fine now. Koutarou has no other skills, has never worried about anything outside of sports, and when the inevitable comes, he’ll have nothing to go on. His friends won’t want anything to do with such a loser, and Keiji—Keiji will leave—

“Koutarou.”

Keiji’s voice is firmer this time, and Koutarou looks up. His head feels heavy.

“I’m sorry,” he manages.

He feels like he should be crying, but he isn’t. Keiji sighs and touches his face.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” they murmur. 

“But I’m—like this,” Koutarou says, gesturing at himself. “I can’t even get up, I’m so stuck in my own head, I’m worthless, Keiji, why do you even bother with me?”

Keiji frowns. Koutarou hates that, but he deserves it. He deserves every bit of Keiji’s wrath, of their disappointment, of their hatred—

“I love you, Koutarou,” Keiji says. “I love you more than anything or anyone I’ve ever known. I know sometimes it’s hard to feel, but it keeps being true whether your brain believes it or not. And I’ll keep showing you, alright? As many times as you need, for the rest of our lives.”

Koutarou bites his lip. “The rest of our lives?” he repeats.

Keiji’s face softens. “I did marry you, you know. I believe it was even my own suggestion.”

Koutarou takes a deep breath. It’s easier when he’s looking at Keiji, when Keiji’s clear gaze is focused on him. It can’t make everything stop, but it helps.

“I’m texting Udai-san,” Keiji says, reaching over for their phone. “We’ll both take the day off. It’s been a while since we stayed home together, hm?”

“Yeah,” Koutarou agrees in a small voice.

Keiji grins, and there’s a hint of wickedness to it. “I’m a terrible influence on you, Akaashi-san. Talking you into playing hooky.”

Koutarou smiles, his lips turning up just a little. “The worst.”

Keiji leans over and presses a long, slow kiss to his forehead. “I’m gonna go find some food,” they say. “And meds, and coffee. And then we can do whatever you want today, alright?”

“Alright,” Koutarou says. “If you want to.”

“I really, really do,” Keiji says.

They kiss him once more and go out to the kitchen. Koutarou rolls onto his back and counts the ceiling tiles again. It’s not quite as bad as it was before, the noise in his head. It’ll never be gone all the way, but it’s good to have someone to remind him that those voices are lying. Keiji is good at that. Keiji will always be there to hold his hand through the worst of it. For right now, that’s enough.


End file.
